The Last Night
by Captain Weirdo
Summary: Rupert is losing his mind. Clarisse needs a bodyguard. Joseph rides away.
1. Chapter 1

Joseph was worried.

He wasn't sure why, other than a general feeling of tension in the presence of his employers that day. He'd accompanied King Rupert and Queen Clarisse to the ceremonial closing of the parliamentary session that morning. The Queen had been cheerful and smiling – always glad of the summer recess from the more strenuous duties of government. Since the King's heart attack the previous fall, Queen Clarisse had been responsible for a heavier load of the governmental work.

Rupert's doctors had pronounced him recovered from the attack, but he was still adjusting to his new lifestyle as a cardiac patient and would probably continue to share the reins of power with his wife from now on.

Clarisse had been secretly glad to assume a more direct role in the government. She was intelligent and curious by nature. She enjoyed the challenge of learning more about the intricate dance of diplomacy and the nature of a bureaucracy the size of the Genovian government. It was hard, exhausting work at times, but she enjoyed the sense of greater purpose that she felt now. The world of charity events and state hostess could be fulfilling, but she'd always wanted more.

In counter to Clarisse's mood, Rupert had seemed dark and testy. He didn't smile and seemed to pay only nominal attention to the final session's agenda. Following the official closing ceremony, the King seemed anxious to get through the throng of well-wishers and back to the limo. Clarisse noticed his mood and tried to move along with him, but she wasn't willing to totally ignore the law-makers and their staff members who wanted a moment to say hello or to offer congratulations.

Joseph knew when he'd started to become concerned about the situation. It was when one of the newest members of the legislature approached the Queen and offered his thanks for her support of a bill that fulfilled a promise he'd made to his constituents. Clarisse accepted his thanks graciously before turning to Rupert to present the young member to the King and explain that her support was only an extension of the King's own wishes.

Joseph happened to be in full view of the King's face during this exchange. Rupert's countenance darkened as he observed his wife in conversation with the young man. He made no move to intervene, but there was a look of malevolence on his face that Joseph had never seen before. He couldn't tell to whom the king was directing his gaze. And just as Clarisse turned towards him, the anger fell away, replaced by a mask of deep indifference.

Clarisse presented the young man to the king and seemed somewhat frustrated by the King's lack of warmth, but nothing more. She quickly followed Rupert outside to the waiting limo. Joseph followed along behind.

He tried to catch her eye in a silent question as he helped her into the waiting vehicle, but she was distracted and frowned concernedly towards her husband.

Joseph closed the limo door and tried to put the scene out of his mind. Anyone can have an off day, Joseph told himself as he settled into the front and gave the driver instructions. He's probably just tired.

In the back, Clarisse was trying to convincer herself of the same thing. Rupert had not spoken since they left the building. He stared unseeingly out the window on the drive back to the castle. Clarisse's attempts at conversation fell flat and she finally gave up and rode the rest of the way in silence.

Rupert's valet and secretary, as well as Clarisse's assistant Charlotte, greeted the limo as it purred to a stop in front of the south entrance. Joseph opened the door and handed Clarisse out into the sunshine. It was a gorgeous day.

Charlotte noticed the queen's smile as she surveyed the rose garden that stretched out from this side of the palace. "I've taken the liberty of asking that the cook serve Your Majesties' lunch on the balcony of your suite, Madame," Charlotte said.

Clarisse smiled warmly at her assistant. "That sounds perfect, Charlotte. Would you join me in half an hour, Rupert?"

"No, thank you," her husband responded rather stiffly. "I have some paperwork I need to finish, so I will have a working lunch in my office." He handed his hat and stick to the valet and indicated his secretary was to follow as he strode into the palace.

Joseph watched Clarisse carefully. He noticed the momentary flicker of disappointment and concern that crossed her face. Then she took a deep breath and turned to Joseph, just then realizing that her hand still rested lightly in his, his other hand still gently cupped her elbow as it always did when he helped her from the car. She smiled at him as she withdrew her hand. "Well, Joseph, would you and Charlotte like to join me for lunch?"

The three of them enjoyed a companionable meal, made even better by the warm spring sun which seemed to cleanse the air of worries or tension. Charlotte excused herself as soon as they finished dessert. She had some phone calls to return. Joseph got up to leave as well.

He was almost out the door when she called to him from the balcony. "Joseph – do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." He rejoined her, this time leaning against the railing, looking down into her troubled blue eyes.

She stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong with him. Do you have any idea?" Joseph knew immediately what she meant. He hoped his distaste for the king's actions hadn't been this obvious to anyone else.

"I honestly don't know Your Maj – Clarisse. Have you spoken with his doctor? Could the stress of winding up parliament be affecting his nerves?"

"No, I've spoken to no one. In fact, until this morning, I wasn't entirely sure that there was really anything wrong. I'm still not sure. But I know you noticed his behavior as well."

"Indeed."

"I think I'll have Charlotte call the doctor this afternoon," she said to herself more than to him. Looking up again at Joseph, "Rupert hates for me to 'interfere', as he calls it. But I have to know if there is something we should be concerned about."

Joseph nodded and Clarisse rose. He waited for her to leave the balcony before following her back inside. Somewhere in the back of his mind he acknowledged that his duty to follow a few paces behind the Queen provided him an always advantageous view. Joseph cut off that train of thought rather violently before it had a chance to progress. He couldn't afford the luxuries of such thought.

Clarisse returned to her desk and sighed resignedly at the stacks of paperwork. She picked up the prioritized list Charlotte had prepared and groped absently for her glasses. Joseph paused at the corner of the desk and slid the glasses toward her hand. Her fingertips brushed the back of his hand and she looked up at him, somewhat startled. He gave her a small, grim smile and silently left the room.

Once the door closed behind him, he let out the breath he'd been holding. He knew he shouldn't do that, but he sometimes needed to reassure himself that she felt the same spark he did whenever they touched.

Evidently she did. He ran a hand over his face to hide his smile and walked purposely towards his office a few doors away.


	2. Chapter 2

Joseph emerged a few hours later, ready to make his rounds of the various security details. Charlotte was headed downstairs as well. He quickened his pace to catch up with her.

"Did Her Majesty make contact with the doctor this afternoon?" he asked quietly. Charlotte started briefly – she always found his natural stealth a little disconcerting. Recovering almost instantly, she said "No, she told me she wanted to talk to His Majesty's heart doctor and I started to put through a call. But she changed her mind told me to hang up. Is something wrong?"

"Not with the Queen."

Charlotte nodded. She didn't need to be told something was going on with the King. She'd noticed the tension as well.

Joseph walked past the queen's suite on his way to his office a couple of hours later. The presence of the guards on either side of the door told him she was still inside. Joseph paused and tried to think of a reason to knock on the door. He needed to see her for himself. But, nothing was forthcoming and he knew she'd see right through any ploy. He continued down the hall to his office.

"Mr. Bonnell."

Joseph stopped short and turned to see King Rupert coming up the stairs. He must have seen Joseph's hesitation at Clarisse's door. Joseph bowed. "Your Majesty." He waited expectantly for instructions from the monarch. Rupert eyed him suspiciously for a heartbeat before speaking.

"I believe we have done you a disservice, Mr. Bonnell. One that I never noticed until this very moment."

"I assure you there has been no disservice Your Majesty. I have always been treated handsomely here."

"Perhaps, but who's idea was it to put your office down there? Surely the dark end of this hallway can't be a particularly good location for your office. The Head of Security should be housed on the official floor. I believe there is an empty suite just down from my study. I will speak to Roberts immediately about having you moved."

"Thank you, Majesty, but I am quite content with my current office. It is out of the way and quiet – highly conducive to my work. I would just be in the way on the official floor."

"Nonsense. Yours is a very important position, Mr. Bonnell. After all, the safety of the monarchy is in your hands. I've entrusted you with my most valuable –" the king gestured towards Clarisse's door "Well, I can't very well call her my possession, but you know what I mean. You are too isolated here. I need you closer to me – keeping me apprised of your efforts to see to my wife's safety. We can't hide you in a corner up here any longer. She's always complained of having you underfoot up here," Rupert laughed scornfully. " I'm sure she can use the extra space to house another maid or some such thing."

Without waiting for a reply, the King turned and headed back down the stairs. Joseph stood staring after him, totally unsure of what to do next. The king's manner had seemed challenging, almost as if he were daring Joseph to make an objection. And Joseph certainly wanted to object. He loved knowing that no matter how busy they both were, he and Clarisse were only separated by a normally empty guest suite. His office had a much smaller version of the balcony that opened off of her suite. If they were both taking a break outside during a busy day, they could exchange bits of conversation across the space. He didn't want to give that up.

He also realized he was in no position to object. He strongly suspected that any objection on his part would feed something the King was harboring. He knew he'd been back into a corner and to fight at this point would be a disaster. He was certain Clarisse wouldn't be happy with the change, regardless of the King's assertion to the contrary, but Joseph wasn't altogether sure that she would be able to object either.

Joseph realized the guards positioned next to the Queen's door were beginning to stare, no doubt wondering why Joseph was standing in the middle of the hallway, doing nothing. He turned and quickly walked into his office.

He needed to talk to Clarisse, but if the King suspected him of being too close to the Queen, he had to tread carefully. After an hour of restless pacing and fruitless thought, Joseph decided he needed to leave and clear his head. He told the Queen's guard that he was going for a ride. He'd be gone a couple of hours.

He was gone longer than that.

Joseph changed into riding clothes and chose a spirited horse at the stables and took off at a gallop. He didn't try to think, he just gave the horse the freedom to run as fast and as long as he wanted. The wind in his face and the rhythm of the ride seemed to clear his head. Joseph brought the horse home at a more leisurely pace. He would wait until tomorrow and mention the move to Clarisse in the course of their normal business meetings.

Joseph stabled the horse himself. The grooms were already gone for the evening. It had been dark for quite some time. He climbed the stairs, intending to go straight to his apartment, but almost unconsciously climbed past his floor to the level of the Queen's suite and his office. He would just check his messages before going to bed. And maybe step out on the balcony to check on his Queen. He knew she was likely enjoying the warm night air before going to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Before he'd even reached the landing, Joseph knew something was wrong. There were no guards at her door. He quickly crossed the space between the stairs and her door. As he reached up to knock, a voice hissed his name. He whirled in the direction of the whisper and saw the two guards huddled in the shadows down by his office.

"Explain yourselves. Why have you deserted your post?"

"His Majesty ordered it sir. He came up here about an hour ago and told us we wouldn't be needed for the rest of the evening and ordered us to leave the floor. We knew you'd be furious sir, so we've kept watch from here."

Just as Joseph was about to respond, the door to Clarisse's suite opened. King Rupert stepped into the hallway and slammed the door behind him. He was turned slightly away from the three security men but from the movements of his arms and clothing, Joseph knew he was watching his monarch stuff his shirt down into the front of his pants before zipping them up. Then the King stumbled towards the stairs, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he went.

The men stood in stunned silence for a moment. Then Joseph turned to face them. "Something is very wrong here," his voice was clipped, quick, professional. "You two follow the King – make sure he is headed back to his suite. Wait there, out of sight, until I give you further instructions."

The guards nodded and moved quietly towards the stairs.

Joseph knocked softly on the Queen's door.

There was no response. Suddenly very unsure of himself, Joseph quietly opened the door. Nothing appeared amiss in the study. He strode across the room to the open bedroom door. He stopped short in the doorway.

She wasn't there.

The sheets and bedding was scattered all around the bed. A bottle of champagne had been spilled on the floor next to the bed. A splash of red caught Joseph's eye amid all the rumpled cream colored satin. He ran across the room and picked up a pillow. There was blood on one side.

Oh god.

Where was she?

He ran for the bathroom, but nothing. He was about to leave and issue a general alarm when the breeze stirred the curtains at the French door. It was open.

Of course! She'd be on the balcony.

Joseph tore back he curtain, then fell to his knees next to her. Clarisse was curled into a ball on the stone floor. She clutched at the railing, the one closest to Joseph's balcony, with one hand and her head was buried in the other arm. Deep silent sobs wracked her frame.

He touched her shoulder, lightly, tentatively. "Clarisse?" he whispered.

She gave a gasping intake of breath, as if she'd been drowning and looked up. Joseph saw the blood that was drying in the corner of her mouth.

Joseph didn't know what to say and more importantly, he didn't know what to do. Then she spoke his name and he'd barely recognized the sound of her voice. Her voice cracked with fear, anguish.

Joseph gathered Clarisse into his arms and rocked her like a child. She sobbed into his chest.

:"Clarisse… Clarisse… I am so sorry. This is all my fault."

She took a ragged breath and pulled away a little. "Your fault? No, Joseph – "

"I'm your bodyguard, Clarisse. If I'd been doing my job, instead of off feeling sorry for myself, this would never have happened."

She tried to respond, but couldn't find the words. Joseph reached up and traced the line of her jaw where it was starting to swell. Tears stung his eyes as well.

Without speaking, he stood and gently pulled Clarisse to her feet. He gently lifted her into his arms and carried her inside where he laid her carefully on the bedroom sofa. Clarisse closed her eyes and settled back against the cushions.

"I have to call the doctor, Clarisse."

She opened her eyes and to make a protest. He stopped her with a look. "I have to Clarisse. You are injured and a crime has been committed."

"A crime?" she whispered hoarsely. "How is it a crime for a man to have sex with his wife, Joseph?"

"He raped you Clarisse. He's not going to get away with it." Joseph moved toward the phone. Clarisse watched his back, he thought he could feel anger in her stare. He knew he had failed. He also knew she must hate him for it.

"Please, Joseph. Please, don't call." He turned to see her grimace of pain when she sifted position on the couch. Her satin robe gaped open as she sat up. Joseph saw the ugly scratches across her chest, obviously caused by clawing hands ripping at the gown she wore.

"I have to Clarisse. You may have broken ribs or other injuries. You need a doctor." As he spoke his eyes swept the room. His gaze finally rested on the bloody pillow. White hot rage burned in him. He put through the call, speaking directly to the Queen's personal physician, his quick clipped speech impressing the doctor with the need for special care and secrecy. When he hung up, he thought for a second then picked up the phone again. This time he dialed the number for the Charlotte's private line in her apartment, two floors below.

"Charlotte – there's been an incident in Her Majesty's suite. I need you here now." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up the phone and turned back to Clarisse.


	4. Chapter 4

The tears had stopped and she was lying back with her eyes closed, her robe wrapped tightly around her. Joseph had no idea what to say to her, so he went into the outer room of the suite to wait for Charlotte.

She arrived within minutes – hair pulled back and sweats thrown over pajamas. "Joseph! What on earth is wrong?!"

He led her into the bedroom and she immediately ran to Clarisse's side, kneeling down next to the sofa. Clarisse didn't open her eyes, but reached out a hand towards her assistant, which Charlotte gripped in both of hers.

:"The Queen has been assaulted, Charlotte," Joseph said. "I need you to stay with her. The doctor should be here soon. I am going to place her attacker in custody."

"Joseph – NO!" Clarisse cried.

"I have to, Your Majesty," he said formally, his voice husky with emotion. "I've already failed in my duty once tonight. I won't fail you again."

Charlotte looked wordlessly from one to the other.

"God in Heaven, Joseph," Clarisse said quietly. "Do not do this. It is none of your affair. Rupert is not himself and if you confront him I don't know what he might do." She was trying to pull herself up, but again the pain in her side kept her down. "He is still the king."

Joseph looked into her eyes, searching – he wasn't sure what for. He said only "I'm sorry, Clarisse." He turned to leave and the sound of her softly crying reached his ears. He didn't turn, but slowly closed the door behind him.

He hesitated only a moment before heading to the stairs. The king's suite was one floor above. As he reached the landing, he saw his men step out of the shadows. Four of them. Joseph raised a brow in silent inquiry.

"He's inside sir. He dismissed his own guards as well. We've heard nothing from inside."

Joseph nodded mutely. He left the men where they stood and strode purposefully to the king's door. He didn't knock – simply threw the door open and entered. The door slammed behind him. At the sound of the door, he heard a gasp from further inside the suite. He followed the sound.

King Rupert Renaldi sat on the floor of his bedroom. Rupert was a large, powerful man, much huskier than Joseph's wiry, muscular frame. Rupert's normally stern countenance and watchful intelligent eyes were exactly what a casting director would look for when filling the role of benevolent ruler.

Now Joseph found this powerful man cowering like a frightened child at the foot of his bed. He held his head in his hands, barely looking up as Joseph entered.

Joseph's eyes surveyed the room. His gaze was again captured by a smear of red. The smear was a blood stain across Rupert's white shirt. He knew it was Clarisse's blood. It was where Rupert had crushed her against him while he –

Joseph leaned down and grabbed the King by the shirt, pulling him up on the bed. "Get up and face me you son of a bitch!"

"No. No, no, no." the King moaned into his hands. "Go to her – help her. She needs you Joseph."

His reaction caught Joseph completely off guard. He took a good look at Rupert. The King finally met his eyes and for a moment, a cloud seemed to lift from his gaze. "I hurt her. I don't know what's wrong with me, Joseph. I never should have hurt her." His voice trailed off into a moan and blood began to run out of his nose. "Something is wrong…" Blood dripped down on the front of his shirt, mingling with the blood of his wife.

Joseph was frozen to the spot – his anger pushed him to action, but he knew this was not his King, not Clarisse's husband. This was a man quite literally out of his mind. Even as he watched, Rupert's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid backwards off the bed into the floor.

For a heartbeat, Joseph didn't move, didn't react. Then he bent down and felt for the King's pulse. Very weak. He ran to the door and called to his men - "Get an ambulance! Now!"

Leaving the door open, he crossed the room to the King's side. The blood was still coming out of his nose, soaking his clothes, the rug. Joseph knelt down at Rupert's side. The King turned his face toward Joseph. "Tell her I'm sorry," he whispered. It was his last breath.

It seemed like days later when Joseph was finally able to descend the stairs to Clarisse's door.


	5. Chapter 5

As he entered the suite, Charlotte rose from her seat near the Queen's bedroom door. "I'm glad you're back, Joe. She's still terribly upset. The doctor gave her a sedative, but she's been fighting it for an hour now – she needs to rest."

"How badly –?"

"Superficial, mostly. No broken bones."

Joseph nodded briefly and exhaled a long sigh. "The King is dead Charlotte. It was a stroke, perhaps an aneurysm of some kind. But he is gone."

"Oh, no, Joseph."

"I have to tell her. I don't know how she'll take it. She's been through enough tonight already." His troubled eyes studied the bedroom door with considerable misgiving.

Charlotte laid a hand lightly on his arm. "She'll be okay, Joseph – as long as it is you. She's tossing and turning in there now because she's worried sick about you. Go to her."

Joseph smiled at her and squeezed her hand gratefully. "I'll go down to the press office," Charlotte said. "It will probably take me a couple of hours to get everything sorted out. I won't be back until then," she continued, as she pulled the door of the suite closed behind her.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. He could see Clarisse propped against a mountain of pillows in the middle of her bed. She held something to her jaw – an ice pack he supposed.

"Oh, Joseph! Thank God!"

He came to the bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. Slowly, he met her eyes.

"He's dead, Clarisse."

"No – Oh God, Joseph, no –" she moaned. "You – you – what happed? What did you do?!" Her voice began to break.

He stroked her hand. "No. It wasn't me. The King had some kind of stroke – may be an aneurysm or a tumor, the doctor thinks." He paused and looked her in the eyes. "He came to his senses just before he died. He knew he had hurt you and he wanted you to know how sorry he was."

"This," he touched her face "wasn't him Clarisse."

Clarisse held his gaze for a moment before closing her eyes and leaning back against the pillows once more. The silence stretched out between them. Joseph noted that he satin was had disappeared. Her bed was completely dressed in luxuriant cotton and she herself wore a high-necked cotton gown which covered the bruises on her neck and the scratches on her chest.

A lone tear trailed out from behind her lashes and coursed its way down her cheek before she spoke. "He did love me. More as a friend than a wife, perhaps, and I loved him too." She opened her eyes. "You are right Joseph. Tonight wasn't him. And no one outside these walls need ever know."

Joseph nodded silently. She closed her eyes again and eventually her breathing became more measured and her hand relaxed in his. She slept.

Joseph didn't know how long he sat there, silently watching her sleep. Eventually Charlotte returned and there were calls to be made and people to notify. But for those few hours, there was quiet and peace. And hope.


End file.
